Once well below the surface, they both turned on their modified dive lights. The red colored T-shirt they had torn up and banded over the top of each light presented a subtle glow as they reached the hull.
What they found was puzzling. Small depressions in the metal ringed the rear of the hull, just above the propeller. The rings were successive and traveled consistently down the hull to the base of the lower stern plane, where they ended. Inside the holes appeared to be a thick, metal mesh painted the same color as the sub. The indentations were large but very subtle and probably impossible to spot unless within inches of the hull.
Clay made a rough measurement of the depressions with his fingers and pushed himself back to get a closer look at the prop. Nothing else seemed out of the ordinary.
After several minutes, Caesare joined him and shook his head from side to side, motioning that he hadn’t found anything else further up. Clay nodded and pointed back the way they came. Together, both men descended further and proceeded to head back out toward the sea.
At 6:31 a.m., when the bright orange sunrise broke over the horizon of the Atlantic Ocean, Clay, Caesare, and their Gulfstream jet were gone.
9
Alison was excited and propped herself on the edge of the giant tank and let her legs dangle into the warm water. She adjusted the thick weight belt around her waist for comfort before looking up over her shoulder.
Lee and Juan stood over her, each holding one side of the vest. When Alison nodded, they both lowered it so she could wrap her arms through the wide straps. Once in place, Alison moved her shoulders from side to side to make sure it was comfortable enough.
She nodded and then both men hoisted the scuba gear off the ground and held it lightly against her back, allowing her to wiggle her arms through the second set of straps. Lee and Juan had measured the dimensions of the scuba vest and designed their own vest to hug her below the BCD. It was a perfect fit.
Alison brought the Velcro sides of the BCD in tight and overlapped one on top of the other, creating a snug fit. She could feel the weight of the tanks pulling her back and leaned forward to compensate.
The yellow scuba shell on her back was a CCR, or “closed circuit rebreather.” Unlike the older, traditional scuba systems, modern rebreathers had some distinct advantages. Old scuba systems were “open circuit’” and disposed of the air the diver breathed out by blowing it out from the mouthpiece and into the water in the form of bubbles. It was a very inefficient process since exhaled air still retained a large percentage of valuable oxygen. That oxygen was then discarded, along with the carbon dioxide as bubbles, and the remaining air in the tank determined the amount of time a diver could remain underwater. Rebreathers, however, captured that exhaled air and removed the carbon dioxide, allowing the system to reuse the valuable oxygen instead of wasting it. This radically prolonged the diver’s time underwater. On top of that, the efficiency grew even more dramatic as the diver descended and the pressure grew. Just as importantly, rebreathers were virtually silent, which made the translation process easier.
Alison shifted slightly under the weight of the unit. She grabbed the full-face mask and held it briefly in place, testing the airflow.
She nodded and looked up to Lee. “I’ve got air.”
He knelt down next to her. “Remember, we’re only staying down for a few minutes this first time to test the unit and the wireless connection to the server.” He took her mask and turned it around, pointing to a small rubber circle at the bottom. “This is the microphone and camera, so you must be facing them when you speak or IMIS won’t be able to capture and translate correctly.” He motioned to her vest. “And I showed you where the speaker is, right here in the middle.”
“Right.” Alison tapped the round speaker on the vest.
Juan handed the special earplugs to Lee, who passed them to Alison. After she had inserted both, Lee brought the mask to his lips and spoke softly into its microphone. “Can you hear me?”
Alison nodded.
He couldn’t help but smile at her petite frame under all that equipment.
Alison looked at the water in front of her and smiled, spotting both Dirk and Sally with their heads above the surface, watching.
“Does everything feel okay?” Lee asked.
Alison nodded again. She pulled the mask up and over the top of her thick hair and fitted it in place.
She peered down through the water. “Can you hear me, Chris?”
Chris was below in their observation area, standing in front of the tank and next to a large server. “Yes,” he replied through his headset. “I read you loud and clear.”
“Okay. Here I go.” She gave Lee and Juan a thumbs up and abruptly pushed forward off the ledge.